Une Chambre Foncee
by pantedgieQueen13
Summary: The Dark Chamber" in French. When Sonic gets captured by a mysterious enemy, is it possible for him to survive? I won't continue unless you review, so if you care, be nice and give reviews! Please tell me if you like it! Thanks! Rated T for safety.
1. Prelude

Prelude

_Capture and freedom. Two completely different things, as any person knows. Even though a baby speaks no words, still in its heart, it must know of capture and freedom. I have two hands and in these hands I hold both my capture and my freedom. _

_Capture is when the heart and soul can no longer be free, and in fact doubts its own abilities. Capture is depression, hatred, anger, immorality, fear. It may even be hunger. Heh, as I write, my stomach growls. Capture…even within this dark chamber, I have not given to fear or anger, immorality, depression, or even hatred. I have not even given to hunger, or fallen to my knees because of capture. It is something very few people feel. And they feel it at their life's end._

_Freedom is everything else. Freedom is happiness, friendship, love, courage, that feeling you get when you know you belong somewhere and are loved. Maybe you belong in your house, but I belong in the world out there. Like a ghost I wander through the cities, fields, prairies…until my physical body is captured._

_But…is there ever any reason to _feel_ captured?_

_Click, whir, processing. Animatronic data received. _

_A traveler of the world. Ancient prophecies downloaded, data received. _

_Ghost from the heavens deployed. Myths downloaded, data received._

_Location: Unknown. Bionic sensors open, data being received._

_It is my turn to rescue and not to be rescued. I do not know my purpose but maybe I shall find it. _

_Processing, data received. Location: Still Unknown. Tracing bionic skin cells now._

_Processing words, feelings, laughter. Processing words spoken, thoughts had._

"_Is there ever any reason to feel captured?"_

_I do not know. Maybe I shall find out._

_It is not something that can be taught; it is something that is possessed._


	2. Piece de Attente

Pièce de Attente (Waiting Room)

The robots surrounding me didn't surprise me. After all, who else would come and find me after the death of their ruler? I had very little part in it, surprisingly. The old man died of unhealthy habits, and I don't think I need to go further. That, and if I went further, I'd wake up my appetite which I've put to sleep for the moment.

I don't blame the robots. After all, they live on oil and water (an improvement by Eggman, and thank the Supreme Being, otherwise I'd be dead), and have no need for food. I didn't suppose or guess they were used to having an organic prisoner, one that lives and can die. They know enough to see what hurts me, but not how strong they are.

My indestructible body is dotted with raspberries from harsh treatment. Though most of them are hidden by my thick coat of fur, they still hurt. The ones around my ribcage, especially, for it's hard to lie down when your tender underside is bruised all over.

I guess it's been about fourteen days. I don't know, I was never very good at keeping track of time. I only know that the sun has risen and set at least twice. I've been spending my time sleeping, so the two things that let me know how long I've been here are also my greatest weaknesses. My throat and my belly.

Oh, crap. My stomach's growling echoed throughout the walls of the cell, for I'd made the mistake of thinking too much. I curled my knees up to my chest, but the robots, if they'd heard, didn't seem to care. Some of the newer models, who were more familiar with the sound, turned their heads to look at me.

I hated being stared at. I shrank down further against the corner of the cold, stone wall, which made up my prison. The sun, coming in through the barred window, cast a shadow over the floor. The robot guarding me made a sign and another brought out twin dog dishes. I'd been insulted at the beginning of my stay until realizing that this was how they served to me the water that I needed to stay alive, if not healthy.

Well, it kept my fur the royal blue it had been since the day I was born, so at least I didn't_ look _weak and perhaps a bit sick. As a half-wild creature, my immune system wasn't exactly up to par now that I wasn't eating regular meals, and I was suffering. A hoarse cough built in my chest and I bowed my head to muffle the sound.

When I looked up, the dog bowls were placed at the edge of my cell. My eyes closed in relief, for my throat had been tight with thirst since I woke up, and I got up and walked over to the bowls. I hadn't permitted myself to crawl, and my legs were still strong. At least I could show these robots I was fine.

As I knelt again, closer to the dog dishes, I sniffed at them both curiously. Water has no scent, but oil is stronger, and I didn't want to drink _that_. Deciding upon one, I lifted it to my lips and took a long drink, being careful to get as little as possible anywhere but my mouth. The sounds my gulping made must've attracted the attention of the hoards of robots that surrounded me daily, but I'm sure few of them cared. In fact, they were probably "eating" too.

"Ah," I felt better now that life-giving liquid was safely down my throat, washing away the desert-like dryness in a few quick sips. With water being the only thing in my belly, I sloshed a little, but this was better than being thirsty. I placed the bowl beside the first, got up, and retreated back to my dark corner, which I preferred to the brightness of the front of the cell and that space beyond it.

Fourteen days. I seemed to remember that a person can't go more than fourteen days without food. If this was true, why wasn't I unhealthy? Why wasn't I weak and faint with hunger? Why…why wasn't I craving any food under the sun? Why wasn't I so empty that I was delusional? Why was I sane?

I got my answer as soon as I smelled it. "Mmmm. Pasta." Soft, buttery, tasty, and though not my favorite food, absolutely tempting. I cringed in pain, falling to my knees in the middle of the floor, and bent up over myself. _Now_ I was faint with hunger. My stomach's rumbling echoed in my head as the smell became more pronounced. I pressed my forehead to the cool floor, shutting my mouth against drool, and willed the torment to go away.

But, my will was broken. Just by smelling food, even a food I wasn't particularly fond of, crushed two weeks of careful fasting. I felt my bruises grow more painful, and I was aching in places I never thought could ache. I pressed both hands against my stomach and moaned. The smell wouldn't leave, and I didn't want it to.

Fueled by a sudden surge of energy, I leapt upward, grabbing hold of the iron bars on the only window in my cell and poked my nose out into the open. I'd found the source. My nose was so beautifully strong that it had found that smell in a house at least ten or twenty miles from the prison. It was one of those country houses, with nobody around to bother the people within. My empty belly still growled horribly, making me dizzy, but I slunk to the ground and my heart sank.

That food was no were near me, and it didn't appear I'd be getting any soon. Dizzy, tired, and now hungry, I curled up and closed my eyes trying to sleep. But, I was still smelling the pasta, now less fresh in smell but no less tempting. I growled under my breath and stuck my nose into my arms, forcing my eyes to stay shut.

Behind my eyelids were worse visions. The smell had swarmed my brain, so now, powerless, I was thinking unwillingly about pasta. Warm and buttery, with soft powdery cheese sprinkled overtop, maybe some bland sauce or succulent meatballs amongst the tussled yellow noodles…it all looked good. I could even imagine cold, bland pasta without any butter or cheese, or even the strand of pasta that fell on the floor and someone stepped on it.

Ew. I re-thought that one, imagining the germs that would be infesting it. Maybe it didn't even _smell_ or _look_ like pasta anymore. That made it less appetizing, but I realized that food was food, despite its appearance. And, I would've enjoyed eating that pasta, even the gross noodle that had wound up on the floor.

I was sick indeed.

When the smell died down, I sat up and went about ignoring my stomach for roughly twelve hours until one of the newer models was my guard.

The moon, a crescent in the sky that looked like a half-eaten cookie, shone pale blue rays through my window and across the floor. I was completely over the crippling realization of starvation I'd experienced earlier and was back to being sleepy and apathetic. So, I was surprised when the robot addressed me.

"Are you hungry?" it asked me, swiveling its curved head a fraction of an inch toward me.

I sat up straighter, stretching out my stiff legs and turned my wide-eyed stare towards it. "A little." I admitted quietly, knowing its sensors would pick it up. Why should I waste energy on making myself heard, anyway? They could hear everything, and never slept. "Why?"

"The Master is sorry. We forget you are unlike ourselves." The voice was almost mournful.

_Master?_ I wondered. With Eggman gone, whom did they call "master"? The one who instigated this capture, perhaps? "Without a bionic leader, how would you know?" I sighed in response, closing both my emerald orbs slowly. My stomach rumbled quietly.

The robot made a strange noise that I guessed to be laughter, its dark red eyes causing a faint glow. "We have much data on you downloaded into our systems, and there are a few whose directive is to cook for bionics. When would you like to eat?"

_Immediately,_ I thought, my stomach prompting me to eat, knocking impolitely against my insides like an impatient visitor at a door to a house. But, as a yawn crossed my lips, I realized that though a nice, warm meal would make sleep easy, I was far too tired right now. I hoped the morning would bring more strength. "Tomorrow," I replied, stretching and allowing another yawn to cross my lips.


	3. Demain

Demain (Tomorrow)

I sniffed and licked my chops. The cell was hot, so the sun must've been straight overhead: Noon. "Ah," I murmured, sitting up and staring with wide eyes at the source of the smell.

A tower of chili dogs on a portable cart pushed by a crude version of a robot me was stationed outside my cell. I hadn't ever felt so elated before in my life as right now. Pink tongue lolled out of my mouth and I actually could feel myself panting like a dog. They'd brought me more water than they usually gave me, this time in a large water bottle, and rolled this in first.

I took only a few sips, for I was parched as well as starved, but the smell of my most favorite food soon alerted me to the more urgent need. Empty belly rumbled uncomfortably and I stood to walk forward. As I came closer to the light, my pupils became smaller, causing me to squint for a while. The robot once again addressed me.

"Are you ready to eat?" it asked in its monotonous tone of voice.

I nodded my head vigorously. "Yes." My voice was far more civilized than my train of thought. I wanted to tear through that tower like it was tissue paper.

"Very well." And the cell opened. Part of me noticed that now would be a good time to run, but the other half of me, the half focused on my aching stomach, overrode this and I stepped backward, my pupils becoming wide again as the darkness closed around me.

The tray, along with the chili dogs, was left in the cell and the robot guard hurried away. I wondered why there was no one watching me, but dismissed it. No one should see what I was about to do.

I stood on tiptoe to grab the chili dog sitting at the top of the massive pile that looked more like a bunch of stacking logs than real food, careful not to lose my balance and upset my only source of food for right now. Finally, I had a good grip on it and pulled it down to study it.

Would they have poisoned it? I highly doubted it, and if I'd been healthier, I would've hardly cared. My immune system was so well built that I was practically invincible and well protected against any manner of poisons, sicknesses, or otherwise. But a cold, especially if I'd been exposed to freezing water for a long period of time, was something I could catch, healthy or not.

Anyway, I went back to this subject in my mind, turning a mental page. I wasn't exactly, as previously stated, up to par health-wise. If I'd been previously well fed, I wouldn't have such a problem. But, since I hadn't been…

"Gah!" I grumbled, staring hungrily at the delicious source of food, warm and heavy in my waiting hand, my stomach practically reaching out a hand for it. What to do?! I was suspicious, but a state of famine had awoken a dangerously huge hunger level that needed to be satisfied in order for me to live. With empty belly rumbling and my throat closing in on itself with famine, I made my decision.

The whole dog was in my mouth in three seconds. I chewed gladly and swallowed quickly, relishing the feeling of coarse, chewed food traveling down my throat. When the first had hit the pit of my belly, I laughed jovially. No poison.

Eagerly, I grabbed the second, the third, shoveling the chili dogs into my mouth like there was no tomorrow. I lost count after fifty, but I didn't care after that, either. The entire stack was depleted in a matter of minutes.

I licked the remains of the last one from my lips and patted my belly contentedly, my eyelids sagging. My insides churned gratefully and I stretched, letting a yawn escape my lips. I retreated to the nearest corner, feeling the results of my feast overcome me, and nudged the rolling tray with the tip of my sneaker. It rattled rapidly forward and clanged against the iron bars.

It was enough to shatter my eardrums.

Already half asleep before I'd pushed the cart, I sat up in surprise. Several robots clanked down the stairs to examine the damage, wondering as I did what I had done.

Had I really been so weak before, so as not to notice my own strength? Newer models glared at me and I hid my face, wishing I could just go to sleep already. My guard from the night before poked me with a long pole and I sat up reluctantly.

"Come with me," said the robot. "Please."

It was the first time I'd ever heard that from a robot. "Okay," I answered.


	4. Pas Maintenant

Pas Maintenant (Not Now)

A huge yawn crossed my lips and I covered it with one hand and stretched the other outwards. I was more sleepy from long, restless nights rather than the food in my belly, but it surely helped awaken the tire. I closed my eyes, letting my feet keep moving, but only for a while. The steel floors were an uncomfortable feeling under my feet, almost slippery like ice, and the feeling made me nervous.

My eyes were open and I was more than half awake in an instant. Though a part of me was still sleepy, I could bypass that part at least for now. "Ahh," I rubbed one eye with the back of my hand like a child. One of the robots dared to press its cold hand against the small of my back. I yelped and jumped up, only to touch the ceiling. The strange robot laughter could now be heard. As I slunk down to the floor, I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment.

Suddenly, a large ornate door was in front of me. I looked up at it curiously, one ear swiveling to the side as a gesture of amusement. It was red velvet underneath with golden dragons and vines wrapped around and around it in dizzying circles of sparkling yellow. The jade eyes of one of the dragons stared at me.

I stared right back, hissing. The fur on my arms and chest were standing upright. The staring dragon made me uneasy, for I was always wary of statues that could look at me. On that note, pretty much any statue.

One of the robots opened the door and the other prodded me in the back, forcing me inside. My eyes didn't leave the creepy statue as I walked into the room.

Ick! The plush carpet under my feet was worse than the slippery steel outside and even more unnerving. I groaned and turned my attention towards the large black leather chair behind the very business-like desk. "Why have you come to see me?" Asked a voice that was almost human…and one I almost recognized.

"Master, we've brought the prisoner, the source of the noise that disturbed you." Answered one of the robots at my left hand. I wondered how many of them were here now, but that was a thought easily pushed away. I was too focused on the dark figure before me. I _knew _that voice, but it had been so long…

"Oh?" The chair swiveled and I saw the face. I knew him now, from the six thin hairs on his otherwise bald head to the thick, pointy, fleshy nose. But, it was rumored to have died…! "So nice to see you again, Sonic."

"Never thought I would, Snerdly," I retorted calmly. "That's a good voice for you, by the way. How did you survive that explosion?"

Snively Robotnik forced a laugh that sounded like a robot's laugh. Exactly how human _was _he? And, if he was bionic, shouldn't they be feeding him? How come e wasn't breathing? My silence must've disturbed him, so he spoke again. "If you're wondering about the new me, I internally robotisized myself, so my outside stays the same but my insides are no longer human."

"You wanted to be a robot?"

"I was half dead from the explosion. No, I didn't want to be a robot, but I wanted to live." And "Master" Snively grinned evilly. Yes, everything on the outside was human, and only the insides had changed. But, not by much.

"You're still as heartless as the day you supposedly died, Big Nose," I commented, rocking on my toes. "Still as stupid." I scoffed. "A cage? Really now, Snively, I thought you were smarter than that."

Snively looked at me quizzically, then shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. " I starved you, Hedgehog. I made you beg for food. Made you so weak you could barely stand, I made you groan! Oh yes, I'm far smarter than my uncle and," two small feet met the desk with a sharp clank, "a far better ruler."

"You underestimated me," I answered confidently, remembering my short burst of strength.

"A ruler mustn't allow himself to be troubled by mistakes," Snively answered, closing his eyes. "I won't underestimate you again. Robots?"

"Yes Master?" All the robots stood at attention as if saluting a flag, even the one that was guarding me. I had a strong desire to make a run for it, but my odds wouldn't be good so I stayed put. I realized I needed time, nutrients, and answers. And I wasn't going to get that by running away, being recaptured, and perhaps put into a more heavily guarded cell.

"Take the hedgehog back down to the prison." An evil grin crossed his face. "And let him starve for fourteen more days!"

"What?!" I snarled, trying to pull away. But, the robots held my arms fast and the friction against their sharp parts caused scratches. I had robots pushing me from everywhere and I couldn't get close to my hated new enemy. "You can't do that!" My voice was high, desperate. I couldn't figure out why, after my feast, I was getting hungry again. My ears were clenching closed, my throat was tightening, there was no describing the emptiness in my stomach, and I wanted dinner. It was nearly night now.

"I can," grinned Snively, "and I will!" And his laughter echoed throughout the whole room. It was still the laugh of a madman, even warped by a robot's voice box.

The robots took me back to my cell and threw me harshly inside against the wall. I whined as tender bruised parts collided with cold, hard stone and my heart sank.

I was going to be alone and, very soon, starving.


	5. Ce N'Est Pas Exact

Ce N'Est Pas Exact (It's Not Right)

"Please!" I begged, my hand limply clawing up the iron bar. "All I ask is for a warm meal!"

"No." Answered the robot in a bored tone.

"A bite?"

"No." The robot seemed to sigh. It was a near-perfect robotic version of myself.

"A crumb?" I moaned. "Please, I'm starving. I'll eat anything!"

"Then go and hunt the bugs that crawl in your cell." It replied. "We could use some pest control around here."

I turned my head weakly to look at the flies swarming the back part of my cell. I'd been too weak to kill them, for I was the only one fast enough to catch those pesky creatures, but it gave me time to rethink my last statement. "Okay," I admitted with a deep sigh, "maybe not _anything_."

The robotic clone chortled. "If you think we bend to the will of anyone but our Master, you are mistaken."

"Mistaken my blue ass," I mumbled grimly. Then in a louder tone, I added, "When exactly _did _Snerdly tell you idiots to feed me again?"

The robot me moved uneasily forward a few steps. "The Master has directed us to feed you as soon as you need it."

"Now!" I protested irritably.

"Within an allotted time of days."

"Which is…how long?"

"336 hours."

I was too tired for math. "Common tongue, please?"

"Fourteen days."

I huffed in impatience and slunk to the back of my cell, etching another tally mark in the wall. "Fourteen," I muttered. Well, technically, I'd been here roughly twenty- eight days. Twenty- nine if I could make it till midnight. I wondered why I could survive longer without food. After all, I could go one day over the limit, perhaps more, without dying. Why was that?

Then, I thought about it. My life was a nightmare at times. Before Eggman's rein of terror had ended, I'd been in and out of capture, and had my share of close shaves. I also tended to look for danger. Ha! That part didn't bother me.

I cracked my neck absently, remembering. That day, when I'd seen my captor for the first time in fourteen days (maybe), I'd been hungry only a mere three or four hours after eating more than fifty chilidogs. Why was that?

Maybe it was that I could easily douse a tower of chilidogs as an easy lunch. Yeah, that was probably it. I flopped down in the corner, watching the flies buzz angrily around the window. Watching them made me disoriented and completely dizzy. I kinda wanted to get out on the road.

I didn't know what happened next, but the flies are the last thing I remember about the morning.

I sat up abruptly to the smell of something warm and delicious. My stomach rumbled in my chest.

To be honest, I was no happier with the situation than my insides. I groaned and rubbed my head, suddenly plagued by a splitting headache. The feeling in my stomach wasn't the devouring of something bad, but the reaction from not devouring something good.

The growling stopped, and lesser feelings of hunger returned. The back of my throat clenched just a little and not enough to bother me or cut off air passage. There was a strange emptiness within, too. One that I had no words to describe. I shook my head at my own silliness, feeling more dizzy than hungry. Was my body winding down? Was this death by starvation?

I stood on wobbly legs (I could hardly stand at all at this point), stretched both arms out for balance, as if I was walking a tightrope, and slowly approached the bars to investigate. As I got closer and my vision caught up with my other senses, I noticed a dim spotlight over a rounded blue and gray robot with a dark brown bowl of…something that needed silverware. I spied a silver handle sticking out of the side.

And, I was cursed with the delectable smell. It hit me like a tidal wave and I half fell into the bars with the force of it. "Curse you," I hissed hoarsely, "for starving me so that I fall at just the smell of…" but I trailed off, realizing that this guard was not bionic. It didn't need to eat, and maybe Snively wasn't so bright or cruel as to merely taunt him. So…why else would it be here?

"Midnight?" I wondered, more to myself than to another person. The robot before me seemed to nod, but I couldn't trust my eyes right now. All I knew was that my nose was telling me something good to eat was in that bowl.

The good thing about your sense of smell is that it's probably the most honest sense. Unless you've got a cold, no way is your nose gonna lie to you. And this time was no exception.

I pressed my cheek against the bars and slid to my knees. "Ooww," I moaned very softly as my much-abused knees met the cold stone floor and supported more than half my weight. Shifting it all to my calves did very little, as I was still starving. My insides were starting to feel like the vastness of space. Pretty fucking empty.

Yeah, that's right. Sonic the Hedgehog just thought a curse. A small smile crossed my face, for I was pleased with myself. I had just officially ruined a clean slate. _How do you like _that_ Supreme Being?!_ I had no faint idea why that made me feel so happy. I thought I felt myself getting stupider. Maybe _that_ was it.

The strange robot surprised me. "Food?" It clicked in a very feminine robot voice, as if it was unsure I would understand the rudimentary dialect.

I understood it as if it'd spoken to me in plain English. It was a long time since I'd heard the robot dialect, and of course I couldn't speak it, but I could answer. "Yes," my tongue crossed my lips.

The robot looked as surprised as a robot could, then spoke in a different dialect. "Now?"

It was a newer robot dialect, one I was not so familiar with. But "now" was one of the words I knew, along with the phrase "get him". I wondered if this robot was personally testing me/asking to get served, or if it was just its directive. What was I saying? I chuckled at myself for not realizing. Of course! It was a translator 'bot Eggman had kept around for use during his travels! I decided to confuse the robot by responding in a language I knew well. "Amperio hora si." Spanish for "ah yes".

The robot seemed to clear its throat and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Here," it said in plain English, shoving the bowl at me and retreating. I took the bowl and pulled it through the bars, turning over the white stuff with a spoon.

It was white rice with a bit of milk in it. Yucky! I _hated _milky rice with a deep passion that was a part of my core. I was about to discard it when I had a thought.

Was this small bowl of rice, hardly enough to pass for a meal after one day, my meal after fourteen days of starvation? I prodded the white stuff with my spoon distastefully, getting more and more disgusted with every turn of my spoon. The plate was starting to lose its heat before long.

However…

Yes, my empty belly was prompting me to eat. It was struggling not to growl, but I could feel it going around my insides like a comet in orbit. A very fast orbit. Like NASCAR, only not _that_ fast. Finally, perhaps sensing that I'd given up on likes and dislikes, it rumbled angrily up at me, like a child having a tantrum.

I groaned. Rice was very low in protein, especially white rice, and I _needed _protein. Desperately. I wondered again if this was the only food I would get.

Before I was even conscious of the action, my wrist had tilted, dipping the spoon into the center of the rice ocean and pulling out a heaping, dripping spoonful of the stuff. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes as my lips curled over the spoon. I chewed for a while and then swallowed, suddenly eager to have something, _anything_, in my belly. It went down my throat like spinach, which I also hated.

But…

Ah, I rejoiced! There was something very soft and very warm inside of me and it was a welcome feeling. I wanted more of it. I was addicted to it like a man sticks to heroin. If you wanted to go ahead and say it, yeah, You could say that I was addicted to this feeling as if it were an illegal drug smuggled here by some random guy and sold at every corner in New York.

And may the police arrest me for it, for I was not going to stop.

The spoon dove into the rice again and again until I was scooping up the last of it in the silver and later sticking my tongue to the wood (I realized the bowl was polished wood now) to reach the last feeble grains stuck to the bottom anyone else would ignore, the milk dripping down the sides and onto my lap and the ground before me.

When I had acted as a dishwasher long enough, I tossed the bowl aside and crawled to the edge of the bars again. "More!" I demanded in an obsessed tone of voice to the guard who had come to relieve the other. "_More_!"

"No more," the robot replied monotonously.

My heart sank, stomach still angry. "Why not?" My voice was uncontrollably whiny, like a bratty child, but at this point, I didn't care anymore.

"336 hours till you eat next."

A pathetic bowl of rice wouldn't get me through an hour. "What?!" I growled.

"335." The robot counted down. The hour must've changed, but I couldn't sense it.

"You expect me to survive on a bowl of _rice_?" My growl was now a full-out snarl, my white teeth bared. I swallowed the remains of the rice that had refused to get into my stomach before. I couldn't afford to have _one grain_ stuck in my teeth! I needed everything I could get down there, especially if what the robot said was true. "For fourteen days?!"

The robot shook its head. "No. But, the Master expects you to, though."

So, it went from translator to a robot who spoke a more common tongue. I whined in defeat, lashing out at the bars angrily, then retreating to a far corner where hot tears of anger trickled down my face.

At least Eggman had given me a nice full meal after starving me for a long time. Snively only fed me enough to keep me alive.

Maybe not even that.


	6. Affame Mais Ici

Affamé Mais Ici (Hungry But Here)

I rested my head against the wall in defeat. I'd been here thirty six days. Another fourteen day mark wasn't even close and already I was getting feeble.

My ears were alerted to the sound of scuttling feet and I slowly turned my head towards the sound. A cockroach had made its way to my cell and had stopped to clean its antennae. I grinned, slowly shifting positions until I was crawling. Then, I inched forward as inconspicuously as I could, my tongue poised at the edge of my mouth with the concentration, emerald eyes wide and blazing with starvation.

Thirty six days, with nothing in my stomach but already-digested chilidogs and a small bowl of rice which hadn't lasted me very long at all. Thirty-six days, and now I was desperate. My hand reached out towards the cockroach. Closer, closer…yes!

My gloved hand swiftly closed over the finger-sized bug. It kicked and bit and armed all defenses to defeat me. But though the bites pinched and though the kicks tickled my hands, I didn't do so much as loosen my grip. I lifted my fist, with struggling bug inside, to my lips, opened my mouth, and released the bug. It only had about three seconds to live before…

Crunch! My teeth closed over the spine and it moved no more. Relieved, I chewed and swallowed. Make that digested chilidogs, rice, and a cockroach. Now that the bug was in my stomach, I took the time to hate the taste. It was bitter and sticky and it made me feel dirty. I scrunched up my face, stuck out my tongue, and shook the hand that had held it. "Ew!" I exclaimed. "Gross!"

But, I licked my lips. Suddenly, it didn't taste so bad anymore.

My insides rumbled, obviously pissed.

A cockroach was not the same as a chilidog. But, hey. It was _something_. And I was desperate for something, _anything_ to be in my stomach, even if it meant eating bugs. I crawled on my hands and knees some more cautiously, looking for my next victim.

Crazy, you say? Out of my mind, you say? Going against the principles of my being, you say? Maybe I was. But, don't forget that I was also desperate, starved, and very feeble. Only hunger fueled my movements, and if you saw me, you wouldn't recognize me.

I paused to memorize my body, running a hand town my neck and to my chest. There was a clear feeling of my collarbone. I felt like I could grab it and pull it out of my body. Frightened, I traveled down to my chest.

Bony. Like fossils in a museum. I pressed against my upper chest, for my dirty, dull fur covered my ribs somewhat. I gasped.

They stood out, plain as day and hard as rock. I could almost stick my hand up through them, and it hurt to try. I groaned and continued to hunt around for more bugs. Cockroaches, spiders, flies, anything! Dead mice, even!

I had to say mouse. Now, my stomach rumbled even more as I thought about mice. Soft, furry bodies, deliciously sniffing about, eyes wide and red…oh so juicy and sweet! I shook my head rapidly. "No!" Bugs were one thing, but mice? No! I mean, I was a hedgehog, wasn't I? Mice and hedgehogs were practically related! I couldn't I wouldn't! "I can't!" I decided.

Something squeaked.

My head swiveled towards the sound.

A little brown field house had somehow found its way into my cell and was poking around. It had caught its own meal, a stubborn cockroach, and was eating it. All thoughts of shared kinship left me as my tongue crossed my lips at the thought of fresh meat. I crept forward like a cat, my rump in the air.

The mouse paused. I held my breath, praying it wouldn't look my way. Perhaps it was used to the smell of prisoners, because it went right back to eating. My actions in the next few seconds can only be explained by disparity. I shouldn't have had enough strength to do what I did.

I pounced, my hands outstretched. The mouse gave a feeble squeak before I had it in my hands. It squirmed more than the cockroach and bit down hard into the flesh between my thumb and forefinger, enough to draw blood. "Ouch!" I exclaimed, getting a good grip over the mouse's lower half. "You're gonna pay," I promised, my voice low and evil. Then, I twisted the top half one way and the bottom half the other. The mouse let out a horrible cry and moved no more.

I popped the whole mouse into my mouth, its bare tail hanging out, and began to chew, slowly retreating back to my corner to rest. As you can well imagine, my heart was throbbing in my chest and I was tired from my exertions. I sat down, my back against the cold stone, and swallowed. The tail disappeared into my mouth, down my throat, and into my gullet as easily as a noodle.

I couldn't say the same for the rest.

The body was hard going down, especially because of the fur. I'd carefully coated the body with saliva before swallowing and now added some more, taking a sip of water from the bottle they now delivered to me daily.

That helped. The body, along with the tail, easily traveled down my throat and hit the pit of my stomach without complaint. I stretched, letting a yawn escape my lips. For now, I was going to get some rest, the mouse quickly filling to a stomach so unused to food as mine was at this point, and besides, I was tired from my little hunting trip.

With both hands crossed behind my head, I settled in for a contented nap, dreaming of an ocean full of chilidogs, all ready to be eaten.


	7. Alors

Alors (Then)

_Stupid translator. Won't admit that "alors" means "then". Don't fret, dear readers, for it does. I takes French, hee. :) Anyway, enjoy this! I'm going to go eat a cookie. Nom, nom, nom, nom XD._

"So you finally learned to hunt, I gather?"

My ears twitched towards the noise of the robot voice box. "Good morning, Snerdly. So nice of you to drop by."

"You give me no respect, though I take care of you." Noted Snively, sounding pissed.

I forced a laugh, crossing one leg over the other lazily. "Ha! You call feeding me once every fourteen days "taking care" of me?! Bah!" And, I removed the hairless mouse tail I had hanging out of my mouth, holding it between my index and ring finger like a cigarette. I'd managed to catch another mouse, which was a rare breakfast/lunch/dinner indeed. It was funny, because ever since my first mouse, it seemed the mice were few and far between, as if they'd heard of the "killer".

But, I was sure that the bug population (which I was sure not eat the majority of) was what drew them back. Maybe it was cruel of me to kill all the spiders that entered (and not kind on my throat. Their legs were bristly!), leaving an insane overpopulation of cockroaches and such creatures. I yawned now, having finished off a rather good breakfast. For my guests, I'd had a dozen black ants, two fat cockroaches, and a gray mouse. Maybe I'd eaten about five mice altogether, I couldn't be sure.

I was kind of trailing off now, wondering what it would be like to hunt bunny, when Snively caught my attention.

"I suppose I don't need to feed you."

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"Since you're perfectly content living on mice and cockroaches, why should I bother?" I heard him walking away. "It's only less work for me."

"No!" I yelled, forcing myself at the prison cell. It was true that my diet of bugs and the occasional mouse kept me from starving to death, but compared to _real_, cooked food, this diet was nothing. But, Snively was already gone.

I huffed, crawling back to my corner. My belly felt like a huge clamp had been placed over it and I sighed. Despite hating to admit it, my "diet" didn't exactly agree with me. Sometimes, I still threw up the remains of hairy mice carcasses, or spit out half-dead spiders, and gag on sour cockroach blood. I was sick from exposure to red meat, too. My diet wasn't exactly balanced out.

Feeling sickly, I reached through a tiny hole in the wall the mice used to get in, snagged a handful of grass, and chewed until it was pulpy and then swallowed. My stomach calmed enough for me to return to a relaxed state of mind.

Realizing I was still holding the mouse tail, I put the end between my teeth, got about three inches of it into my mouth, then sucked and shivered at the way it slid down my throat like a snake.

Snakes. Mmmm.

That actually didn't sound too bad. And…that kinda scared me.


	8. Ami Dans Un Robot

_Finally! An update on this one! Hope all you peeps like it!_

Ami Dans Un Robot (Friend in a Robot)

"So, decided to come down again, Snively?" I raised by head, feeling it grind against the iron bars. A bug was trying to get inside my shoe, but I made no move to take it out from its place. "How nice of you."

The human-robot looked at me strangely with human eyes that showed very little emotion. Now these burned with hatred. But, he saw what I looked like. No one could deny it anymore. Even the robots stayed far away from me.

If I was bones before, well…now I was an actual skeleton. I could feel that the skin over my cheeks had receded, my body eating up every fat cell in my body. I was sure now that they were all shriveled up and dead. My eyes stood out from their sockets like twin green pingpong balls and were probably wide and wet from hunger. If I traced one bony hand (I had to tie the gloves to my hands with mouse tails, but even these were getting loose around my bony wrists) down my chest, I could feel the rib lines and poke the nerves between them. My spine could almost be felt if I pressed hard enough.

"How thoughtful of you to provide me with a money-making opportunity." Snively grinned evilly, his pale teeth showing. "You would make for a lovely haunted house, I think."

I cocked my head at him as much as I could, sliding my hand up the bar. I was too tired to care about what he was saying, unless it had to do with free food. Absently, I removed the bug from my sneaker. "Well, are you happy now?" I hissed, hoping my eyes showed the resentment I felt. "I can't hunt now, because I'm too hungry to. Do you like me better this way, or do you enjoy people's suffering?"

"Unlike my uncle, I lack compassion. Do be sure, I am a more feared ruler, am I not?"

"No!" I growled, too weak to move. "Just stupid! I'll be dead before long!" It was true, I was sick now. A geyser erupted in my throat, pricking it. I took a sip of the water bottle my other hand held, longing for something warm.

Snively chuckled. "All in good time, my boy, you will learn to give me proper respect. You will learn to fear me, and then perhaps you may live." Then, he went off, clanking down the hallway.

I huffed darkly, pressing my forehead against the iron bars again.

In some time of waking and sleeping, or passing out to be exact, I found it was night. My cell was crawling with mice and voles and other nighttime rodents who entreated themselves entry to my cell. I couldn't well hunt, but I could lie in wait for my prey to come to me. I lay very still, more motionless than I'd ever been before in my life, and waited.

Something tickled my chest and I peered at it. "Hello big, dumb, and ugly," I murmured, barely moving my chest up and down.

A spider about the width of my ribcage was scuttling about like a crab, looking for prey. I could see giant fangs hanging from its lips and I knew too well to avoid those. My stomach rumbled and I cursed it. The spider looked up.

I was too weak to move as quickly as I had in times past. The spider made a weird, almost bird-like noise, and avoided my grasp, running to the other side of the jail. Desperately, I crawled after it. "No!" I growled, my bony chest scraping against the stones. It was pain-inducing. "What I wouldn't give for pain killers and an energy drink," I said under my breath, begrudging the spider his speed.

Big, Dumb, and Ugly was surveying me from the corner, hissing. All of his hideous eyes were staring at me in anger.

Suddenly, a red flash of light tore through my line of sight and hit the giant spider. It screamed and fell to the ground, twitching once before moving no more. The place where the laser penetrated the thick exoskeleton (that's what spiders have, right?), was steaming. Arachnid blood oozed from the open wound.

I laughed like a madman and hobbled over to claim my feast. My head bent over the body, my tongue tasting and my mouth grabbing whatever they could. The hard skin was crunchy and tasted nothing like neither bug nor mouse. It was a new taste. But, it was an indescribable taste. Indescribable because I myself could taste nothing but food. It could've been turd I was eating and I wouldn't care!

Well…I hate to think about that while eating.

I stuffed the last of the body into my mouth, chewed and swallowed, and licked my lips. I hadn't had a good meal in who knows how long and I was lucky to have come upon such a meal. But…how was this? As I turned on my knees, I met the green laser eyes I would come to know over a period of a few weeks. "Who are you?" The first of a number of questions.

"I do not know." Replied a robot voice. It sounded more like my own than any duplicate I'd seen so far.

"Who made you?"

"Robotnik."

I tensed, a hiss deep in my throat. "Why are you helping me, then?"

"I belong to no one," came the reply, "only the wind."

My heart thudded in my chest. _Company!_ "You're more advanced than other robot duplicates of me, aren't you?"

"Yes, but am more aware that I am a duplicate and not the real thing."

"I see." I answered calmly, taking a sip of water. "That still doesn't answer why you're here and helping me."

"I am here to learn who exactly I am. For, if I am not you, what am I? I am helping you because I am a very advanced duplicate. Robotnik downloaded into me everything about you. I know everything you know and can feel your pain and suffering. I know you still hunger, but perhaps you will be more able to fend for yourself now that I have helped you."

I was both touched and freaked out. "Why did Eggman toss you out? Why isn't Snively your master?"

"I know not." The robot seemed to stand or become more tense. "Hush! The watch is coming!"

"When will I see you again?" I asked.

"Very soon." Answered the robot as it disappeared.

I was then left alone with the darkness.


	9. Un Recit Par Moi

Un Récit Par Moi (A Narrative by Me)

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No data found.

This creature is my friend? Do I know that? Will he not betray me and say that I am a robot, so I cannot be his friend?

Ah, so I am not he. I doubt him, and I doubt myself. He does not doubt, does not give in to darkness. I will not either.

He is still suffering, but he is getting better. It hurts him to move too much, but he thinks not of himself. Not ever.

He thinks of all his friends back home. Friends.

I have no friends. Robotnik, my former master, discarded me as scrap when I obeyed my programming and tried to defeat him. The other robots disliked me. I was supposed to undermine everything he loves for the Empire.

Robotnik discarded me, than died. I was the most perfect and final duplicate ever made. With blue skin and fur and quills, I am Sonic as a robot. I am everything he is, yet I am not him. No. I will never be him.

All the video files I have watched tell me nothing of who I am. Maybe he will help me find myself. What if he does not? What if he refuses to help me?

But…

He is a hero, is he not? Will he help me if I help him? I have already helped him, but his mind is blank. He is thinking about his next meal, and not me. The thought is there, but it is not dominant in his mind.

I miss the openness of my own mind.

I miss the wind. But, is that my feeling or is it his? He, too, longs for freedom.

Ah, I hear a mouse! It has come to check me out. Maybe I will offer it to Sonic. Here I sit in front of the bars and all I can do is nothing.

There, there little mouse. Come here. My fingers lock around the tiny body, a silver hand reaches through the bars of the window and drops. The mouse screams on the way down and is dead when its nerves break against the stone floor.

I hear him eating it. I only wish I could do more for him.

But, alas, I cannot.

_Who am I?_


	10. C'etait Lui Qui M'a Aide

C'était Lui Qui M'a Aidé (It Was He Who Helped Me)

I cared not about my days. They simply dragged on enough to torment me. My nights, however, were far more interesting. So, as the darkness filled my cell, I watched the robots file out and another one come in.

He landed from the window above my head and clanked almost inaudibly beside me. I was sure if my senses were not on extreme high alert, I wouldn't have heard. But, as it was, my predatory senses were still horridly obvious and I heard him.

"Good evening," I said brightly as his laser eyes turned to look at me.

"Hello." Came the solemn reply.

"Thanks for breakfast." I told him, crossing my legs and shooing bugs away from my feet.

"You're welcome." He answered quietly.

My stomach rumbled audibly and I sighed. "You wouldn't be willing to do it again, would you?"

"I need you to help me tonight," he answered. "Will you accept if I give you food?"

"I would anyway," I answered. That was true. I was willing to help out a friend, even when I was the one in need of help. Ick. My empty insides didn't agree with me, it seemed. "But…" I added, embarrassed. "Food would be nice."

He smiled and tossed me two carcasses. One was still warm, but the other had grown cold from death. I weighed the colder carcass, finding it long and scaly, a slit in the throat having killed it. The other was a rabbit. I bit my lip, thinking of my friend Cream back home. But, as the carcass of brown rabbit was still warm and fresh, I pulled apart the slit across its heart that had killed it and stuck my tongue into the insides.

He watched with with apparent curiosity, almost exactly like me. His shadows hit our obvious differences, only to amplify just one. I guess I should've felt some shame, devouring mercilessly the food he'd brought without offering any to him, but I soon found out it was just another difference not obvious at first.

"What's it like?"

"Hmm?" I looked up from my feast, swallowing the chewed rabbit's heart. It was the juiciest part of the creature, to be sure.

"Eating. What's it like to eat?" He sat, crossing his legs and looking eagerly at me.

I finished off the rest of the rabbit and tossed aside any inedible parts, then further ripped apart the slit on the snake's neck, being careful to eat around the many tiny ribs on the skeleton. Eating to fill one's empty stomach is a feeling almost impossible to describe. I probably wouldn't have known how to answer were it not for my fast.

"A strange feeling," I sighed with delight. "But, an awesome feeling. It's like…I don't know," I licked my lips and closed my eyes as the last of the snake meat disappeared into my gullet. _Now _I knew how to explain. "Food is wonderful. As you chew it, it becomes mushy. Then, it travels down your throat when you swallow and hits your stomach and fills your whole body with warmth." I opened my eyes.

"It sounds wonderful."

"It is." I yawned in spite of myself. "Why do you want to know?"

"I am a robot. I have never eaten."

I sat up straighter. "Oh." Then… "Can you make your stomach growl?" I wondered randomly.

"I can."

"You actually _have _one?" I was surprised.

The robot's lasers turned off. I assumed that was the equivalent of closing his eyes. "I was modeled after you, remember? Even internally. I am only…I have no need for rest."

"Make your stomach growl." I insisted.

"That I cannot do."

"Why not?"

"You are not hungry."

I understood, although the knowledge came slower to me than usual. "_Oh_. You need to connect with me to do that."

"Yes, and that is when I feel your hunger."

I could feel that I was still undernourished, but I was sated for now. "All right. What is it you need to know?"

The robot's lasers glowed and he proceeded to ask me questions about my friends, about past events, about Eggman, about everything.

And…I came to know him better then.


	11. Une Nuit Foncee

Une Nuit Foncée (One Dark Night)

This pattern of him coming to see me, bringing me food, and asking me questions happened every night for a long time. I felt myself getting stronger and stronger daily, and for this I was relieved. It meant that soon, I could escape.

"Here." My friend tossed me two warm carcasses as he entered the cell. He seemed tired…or, at least as tired as a robot can be.

I weighed the warm food, one a pheasant and the other a pigeon, in my hands. I could smell them…and they didn't smell raw. My heart leaped into my throat with excitement. "They're cooked!" I exclaimed, wanting to hug him, although that would be awkward.

"Yes." He smiled at me. I noticed once again that he could actually do that.

"Why?" I asked. The smell of cooked food was absolutely tempting. My hunger, though, was not so overwhelming anymore. It was getting harder and harder for me to hear him enter the cell, and I was getting rather plump. But, if that meant that I was healthier, then I wasn't at all depressed. I pulled a leg off the pigeon and sank my teeth into it.

"You are getting healthier. It is time you stopped eating rare meat." He sat by my side as I ate, staring out my single window in a contemplative manner. I longed to know what he was thinking.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." His head turned towards me, the black nose shining in the moonlight.

"What are you thinking right now?" I swallowed heavily, beginning to eat the pheasant. Cooked food was more filling than the rare meat I was used to, and the texture tickled my tastebuds.

"I am thinking about the night." His lasers gravitated towards the night sky. "I am thinking about owls and rabbits and bats and moths."

"You think a lot, don't you?" I yawned, stretching as the last of my first cooked meal in (maybe) sixty seven days disappeared into my gullet. I was actually feeling rather full, a sense that I'd missed in my days here.

His ears flicked a fly away. "And about my brethren."

I sat up straighter. Just as I was thinking about my friends, he was thinking about what he must've considered family. Even though they were evil, and had tried to kill me, they were still basically his family. "I'm sorry." I murmured.

"It is not your fault. They are acting on programming, as am I. They have no need to care for me as I care for them, because they cannot. It is not a part of their directive." He seemed aloof, tired, far away.

"Do you long to be flesh?"

He smiled as much as he could. "To be honest? Yes."

"I used to fear robots." I told him.

"You should still. We are a dangerous lot."

"Don't include yourself in this." I rested a hand on his shoulder. Man, I could barely keep my eyes open! I was content, and very sleepy. I yawned again, my once-tense muscles relaxing.

"You are tired. You should sleep."

"I'm full, that's what." My head met my knees as I embraced them, pulling them close against my chest. I could no longer feel my bones. I had to press hard to feel them, though my ribs still stuck to my skin. "Now, what else is on your mind?"

"Escape." He said.

"You know, I never bothered to ask you what your name was." I responded.

"Spirit."

I grinned, giving a thumbs-up. "Okay, Spirit. What's the plan?"

"It has not yet reached formation."

"Still chewing on it?"

Spirit laughed. "Yes."

"Okay." I shrugged. "It's cool, I can wait. If you need me to do anything for you, let me know."

"I will." Spirit stood and reached for the window. "I must depart."

"Bye." I waved to him before stretching out and closing my eyes.

And, for the first time since my stay, I slept deeply.


	12. Travail a Faire

Travail à Faire (Work to be Done)

"Good morning, Sonic. You seem rather chipper today."

I opened one eye to glare at the disturber of my nap. The human eyes stared lifelessly at me from behind the iron bars. I stretched and yawned. "Chipper? Not quite, Snerdly. You woke me up." I couldn't help the fact that my voice held bounce. The cooked meal from the night before had not only satisfied me, but had also raised my health levels considerably.

Snively quirked an eyebrow. The robot within the skin had been programmed to perform such mundane bionic tasks. (Was I really thinking those words? It seemed that my brain power was coming back as well. Could I now help Spirit get me out of here?) "It seems to me that this happiness cannot come from insects and raw meat. You have had outside help."

I bit my lip. Holy crap, what now?! "Uh…"

"Not that I care. You are here, and that is what matters." Snively tossed a hand proudly and I let free a sigh of relief. So I hadn't put Spirit in danger after all.

_I'm waiting…._

Later on, when the last of my robot guards left me, I felt another presence enter my cell. Normally in a place like this, that would've freaked me out. But, I knew Spirit too well to fear him. I stood for the first time in quite a while and stretched my muscles in these unused areas.

I noticed that Spirit was covered in oil and dust. I knew enough of robots to know that he suffered. "Spirit…" I said in a concerned manner. "What…?"

He pressed into my hands a bottle of flavored water. "Here. Drink up. I have food if you are hungry." Spirit then sank to the floor, his robot limbs creaking.

I was indeed thirsty, so I drank the tasty water down in an instant. But, now I was more concerned at the life of my friend. "Where were you today, Spirit? Are you hurt?"

He chuckled, raising his red lasers up to me. "It is foolish to ask such a thing of a robot. 'Hurt' is not something we feel."

"You're in need of a good oiling." I noted, my nocturnal vision flying over his rusted quills and joints. "Here, let me help you." I broke into a run, going slowly at first ("slow" for me was the speed of an Olympic runner), and located the dog dish filled with oil that one robot had carelessly forgotten to remove.

I brought it back over to him without spilling a drop and removed one of my gloves, dipping it in the oil. "Stay still." I directed calmly. "I'll wash you off."

Spirit's metal claw grabbed my arm. It was insanely cold to the touch, and I shivered. "Sonic, please…"

I scoffed. "After all you've done for me, this is the _least_ I can do. Now, are you ready?" I knelt beside him, running my oiled glove over the rust on his joints. He seemed to sigh in contentment, and I was glad to perform this small service or him. It was quiet for a while as I washed him, both of us lost to silence, and I observed once again how much rust had built up on his body.

"You're becoming more like me." I whispered after a while, yawning before I rinsed his quills with the sticky black liquid.

"How so?" Spirit moved under my touch, raising his lasers to look into my eyes. Dark red met bright green and we stared at each other, communing almost mentally and sharing a secret moment like a pair of twins.

"The way you're all rusted." I replied, going back to my work. "You aren't taking care of yourself. You're selfless, just like me."

He seemed to smile. "Thank you, Sonic. That means a lot to me."

"It's not a problem." I answered. "Like I said, this is a favor I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything." Spirit answered almost mournfully. There was an unfulfilled silence in which I was confused, but preoccupied with work. Finally, I heard my favorite robot voice again.

"Sonic, my kind helped wreck havoc on your world, your family, your friends…" Spirit looked at me again, and I pulled away from him as he moved. "Why…why do you trust and help me, asking nothing in return, not even that I destroy myself? Why? I must know." His eyes were the most pleading I had ever seen any robot's. And…that touched me somewhere deep down in my self conscious. I felt a prickle in my eyes, and I fought it back with every ounce of strength in my restored body.

I smiled finally, eyelids closing. "Despite the fact you're a robot, I try not to judge my friends by appearances. A friend, to me, is a friend no matter what. Your 'kind', as you say, isn't _you_. You might be a robot, but you're not like them at all."

Spirit looked at his metallic clawed hand. Then, he softly rested it upon my shoulder. "Sonic, that means more than you know."

"Does it?" I was a little confused, but I laughed easily. Suddenly, I felt a cool metallic hand touch my cheek. My eyes opened, and I found him staring at me. Our noses were almost touching (well, parts equivalent to a nose for him, anyway). "What was that?" He asked. "What were you just doing?"

I had to think hard. What _was _I doing? What had confused him? Oh, I get it! "Laughing." I answered, shrugging.

"Laughing." He repeated. "Robots can't laugh."

I put my hands, one gloved and one not, firmly on his shoulders. "Maybe you're not a robot."

If he could've frowned, I know he would've. "Parts components make me…"

I shook my head, chuckling. "Not like that. I mean, you've got too much _inside_ of you, here." I indicated to my heart and then pointed to a place equal on his body. "You've got heart, Spirit."

My robot friend's eyes lit up bright in the dim cell. "Thank you, Sonic."


	13. Ce Qui Vous Ont Fait?

Ce Qui Vous Ont Fait? (What Have You Done?)

I watched him sleeping with a sort of satisfaction. Despite the fact that I was a robot, I had feelings. I felt for him as one might feel for a twin.

I loved him. I loved him very much. I couldn't consider this wrong. We were friends, nothing more. Brothers, maybe. Is it wrong to love a brother? Was it wrong to still love my brethren, who had encased him, kept him caged like a pet bird?

I felt better myself, now that my joints did not creak so much. He had ended up sacrificing his two white gloves for me. "Thank you." I whispered.

He moved closer towards my cold body. Yes, escape was imminent. He and I knew that very well. I had to find some way to get him out of here safely.

I wondered briefly if it would be possible…for me to come with him. I wanted so much to see the friends he loved, and the small town he called his home when he wasn't adventuring. I wanted to be a part of the life I knew everything about.

But, as long as I was a robot, I knew that would not be possible.

And then, I had an idea.

Snively had changed his innards into a robot without changing the human exterior. Could I become the flesh I longed for?

A voice I knew well startled me. "Hello, Metal Sonic VII."

I jumped into a defensive position, ready to protect my dear friend Sonic at any cost. "Snively." I growled. "Get out, before I spindash you to pieces!"

"Hollow threats, hollow threats, my boy." Snively cooed, those cold human eyes studying me. "I might've thought it was you, bringing food to Sonic. If you're thinking of escaping, don't. There's no way out."

I held my tongue. The less Snively knew, the better. Sonic and I both understood this. I snarled at him, my eyes glowing brighter. "I can still break you. I've broken robots before."

"A converter is such a hard process." Snively went on, as if he had not heard me. "To convert something from squishy matter to robotic parts is a chore. To do the opposite is harder, especially if you have never been flesh, VII."

"My name is Spirit." I growled.

"Oh-ho-ho!" He crowed mockingly. "Spirit, is it? Spirit, Spirit, Spirit? Like a ghost?" He laughed and laughed, and I grew embarrassed. "Forget it, IV, you'll never be quite like your counterpart, which sleeps soundly there. You're a robot. You might as well do what's within your programming."

My laser eyes grew hot, and I felt my hands converting into power cannons. "Let's dance, Snively." I said.

Snively drew his guns. "I wish I didn't have to do this. If you would only be a good little robot and fulfill your programming…" He opened the cell and I stepped out, power cannons drawn.

"I am." I answered calmly as I fired the beams of light at him. "I am."


	14. Danse de la Mort

Danse de la Mort(Dance of Death)

_Those of you waiting for __You're Makin Me __will have to wait a bit longer! I'm finishing up this puppy! So here we go._

The dark, damp room was quiet. Snively glared at me, my fingers gone and replaced by canons.

"You dare aim at your master?" He growled in that high-pitched voice I had always managed to find annoying.

"Master?" I spat. "I _have _no master! Only the wind and my heart guide me!"

"You fool!" Snively chortled. "You cannot be _that_!" He stretched out a white gloved finger towards Sonic, still asleep in the cell and deaf to our fight. "You have never tasted a chilidog, you have never seen the friends he cares for, and you never will! The Doctor built you to get inside Sonic's mind, never to become him!"

Hearing my purpose reiterated made me sorrowful. Yes, I knew what I was. A copy. Never to be known as the real thing.

But, then again, I had never _wanted_ to be Sonic the Hedgehog. I wanted to be me, Spirit.

Snively's words brought me back to that day, as he and I circled each other warily…

_The doctor's breath was hot on my ears as he stamped around me, I standing brave, proud, and tall before him._

"_VII, I don't understand you," the doctor was saying. "You are so wonderful a creation…why have you attacked your brethren and refuse to carry out your mission?"_

"_My mission was to destroy Sonic, Father. To do that would undo my programming."_

"_VII, I am __**not**__ your 'father', I am your master." He turned towards me, stroking his mustache and glaring. "And you __**will**__ do as I programmed you to do."_

_If tears had been able to come to my eyes, at that moment, I knew they would have. I felt the sorrow hanging very heavy in my chest. "As you wish, Master." I replied, my eyes closing. When they opened again, they were cocky and full of defiance. "Smell ya later, Egghead!" I shouted before speeding off into the outside world._

_I could hear my father's angry and frustrated cries and curses. The sorrow of, more or less, being kicked out of my home, still weighed heavy on my mind._

"You belong no where." Snively was saying. "Why? Why fight to defend him?" Snively's eyes glowed. "I could reprogram you. You are still the best Metal Sonic that old fool ever built! With you at my side, I could kill Sonic and all his friends from the inside and rule the world at last!" He laughed manically and then cast his eyes on me. They were soft and fake. "All you need do is bend on single knee to me, and say 'yes, master'. Those two words are all it takes. Think of the universes I could open up for you! The kinds of evil the two of us could accomplish together! Think of it, Spirit!" I started when he spoke my name. "We could do all of that together. As partners."

For a moment, it sounded so tempting. I wanted to believe in Snively's ability to help me…! But, I also knew that would bring about the ruination of all the things Sonic cared for, as well as himself. Bringing an end to Sonic would, ultimately, bring an end to me. And all the Metal Sonics, essentially.

I lifted my arms, the power cannons charged fully with a dark pink laser. Snively's lifeless eyes reflected in them.

"No." I growled.

The laser beams fired, cutting Snively's body to bits. The robot fell apart, and the skin wasted away into the ground before my eyes like a vampire turning to dust. My work was done.

I heard the robots falling to their knees the palace over. It seemed Snively was their lifeblood, keeping the electricity they needed going.

"Ooogah," a sensation, like that of being starved, fell over me. Could it be that Snively had kept _me_ alive as well?! I would die if I did not become flesh!

Frantic, I sped around, looking for the converter. Every floor, every room…when I came upon Snively's bedroom.

The old, rustic bed was hardly ever used, but my attentions had no time for details. What I saw was my savior.

The large converter machine.

I stepped inside the whirring, silver box and set it to "flesh". A bright green light flashed in my face, and I felt very ill. I passed out without thinking, feeling the heaviness of my robotic limbs drift slowly away…


	15. Soutenu de Nouveau

Soutenu de Nouveau (Born Again)

I woke up, rubbing my green eyes, to feel someone shaking at me. Feeling rather groggy, I opened my eyes at last and looked up.

I saw someone that looked like me, only his gloves were tight-fitting and silvery in color, gray fishnet adorning the sides. They felt leathery, or the consistency of metal. His shoes were different, also. They looked like mine, only the white strap embraced them, and a bolt-like button lay where my gold buckles were. He was very thin, and his eyes were a bright crimson. "C'mon!" He urged in a voice that sounded very similar to mine. "We have to move!"

"Ungh…Spirit?" I grumbled sleepily.

"Yes." Spirit answered, a worried frown gracing his lips, identical to mine.

"Dude!" I cried happily. "How?"

"No time," Spirit looked swiftly to my side. "I thought they were dead, but they're confused. They're fighting each other."

"Who?" I asked as Spirit pulled me hastily upon my feet. I stretched my lazy bones and prepared myself for a run while spirit watched, arms hugging his chest with anxiety.

"The robots, my former kin." Spirit answered, his red eyes shining in the damp darkness. "I killed their master. They have no orders now. My gears! I thought they would stop!"

I giggled. "You're not a robot. If you want to swear like that, you have to say 'gods'."

"How can you…at a time like this!" Growled Spirit angrily, speeding towards me and grabbing my arms, shaking me a bit. It was enough to rattle my teeth. He was fifty times stronger than me. Stronger than Knuckles!

"Easy, easy," I soothed from his grasp. "You'll hurt me if you shake me like that."

"Oh." Spirit flushed promptly and let me free. "I'm sorry. I don't know my own strength."

"It's cool. Do you know a safe path out?"

Spirit pulled absently at his silver track socks. I noted that his chest fur was not tan like mine, but had a rusty blue color, in contrast with his lighter, silver-blue coat. His arms were silver-furred as well. "Only the window I've entered through so many times. But, I don't have rocket boots anymore. Any other exit…" He sighed. "And I don't have my cannons."

"What about laser vision?" I joked. I could hear the robots, breaking the silence now.

"Directive, directive, punish the hedgehog. Zzzzzzshhh." I heard the sizzle of fire against steal.

"They're coming!" Spirit panicked. "Oh! What to do! What to do!" Suddenly, laser beams shot from his eyes and the wall before up exploded into a thousand pieces. I shielded my eyes and then hugged Spirit as the fresh air beat against my nose.

"Home free!" I glorified, dancing over the rubble and out into the air. I noticed I was not followed, and turned back to the hole in the wall. Spirit was squinting at the sunlight. "Aren't you coming?" I asked him impatiently, offering my hand to him.

Spirit took it gingerly and followed me out. "How strange." He mused. "Everything seems so…colorful! And bright!" He laughed aloud, and then paused. "Hey!" he exclaimed to me, resting his head upon my shoulder. "I can laugh!" And he continued to laugh.

I joined him in a moment and then the two of us sped away from that nasty prison, where we had both been imprisoned in one way or another, hand in hand.


	16. Notre Souffle est Vole

**Notre Souffle est Vol****é**** (Our Breath is Stolen)**

Spirit and I ran until our legs ached from lack of oxygen. We promptly collapsed under a tree, safe and sound and far away from the crumbling base. Both our chests were heaving, though Spirit seemed to be trying to hold his panting back, only to black out occasionally.

"Just breathe," I panted.

"But…it's so strange!" Spirit murmured. "I feel a thumping in my chest! I wish it would stop!"

"If it did, you would die. That's your heart, Spirit." I fell back against the tree trunk, exhausted. Though I was relatively healthy, my limbs were still overworked and underpaid. Sighing, I closed my eyes.

"Oh. Then…am I dying? It's calming." His voice held alarm.

"Let it be," I yawned sleepily. "It'll calm after a while."

"I do not understand."

"Your heart doesn't stop beating unless you die, but the beats when its calm are hard to decipher. You're all right."

"Oh." There was a long, fulfilled silence in which Spirit joined me against the tree. "My eyes are very heavy, and I feel weak. What is wrong with me?"

"You're tired, Spirit." I stretched out and placed my hands behind my head, peeping at him.

"How do I make 'tired' go away?" Spirit cocked his head, the silvery inside of his ears and the metallic fur on his arms sparkling in the sunlight that passed through the leaves of the tree above us.

"Sleep!" I chuckled.

"Sleep? Is that like recharging?"

I snickered at his reasoning. "A bit." I admitted. "You'll feel strong again after a nap."

"How do I 'sleep'?"

"Close your eyes and lose connection to the world. Try to think about nothing." I rubbed my eyes with the back of my tan-furred hand and settled comfortably into position.

"Think…about nothing?" Spirit wondered, and I opened my eyes to find his head resting against mine. He was very beautiful, his quills identical to mine, though his colors were different. "That seems very impossible."

"Hmmm, it is."

"You confuse me!" Spirit smacked my arm and I giggled.

"Just relax and drift away." I told him, keeping one of my emerald beauties on him as he snuggled against me and rested his head upon my shoulder.

"Relax…and drift away?" Spirit asked with a yawn.

"Yeah." I closed my eyes again and lost contact with the world. Before I was fully asleep, I felt Spirit grow heavy on my shoulder.

He had a lot to learn, but he was half way there.


End file.
